


Gentle Giant

by femme4jack, gatekat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: First Time, M/M, Mech Birth, Mech Preg, PNP, Size Kink, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme4jack/pseuds/femme4jack, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>G1 Ratchet/Skyfire<br/>Skyfire wants sparklings. Be afraid.  Be very, very afraid of the generative Seeker-kin ... and yeah, the expansion got a <i>little</i> out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courting A Medic

The battle was a rough one; the Decepticons were determined to hold their position around the hydroelectric plant and were doing a good job. Ratchet was scrambling from one mech to the next doing field repairs and marking who needed to be picked up for immediate transport to the Ark. It was chaotic enough that no one on the ground saw who managed to land the shot, shattering Ratchet's shoulder near his backstrut.

It took the sturdy medic down, dropping him to his knees as pain and warnings flashed across his HUD and sensor net. By the time anyone managed to react, he'd gotten back up, made a partial transformation to immobilize the useless limb, sent internal commands to seal off the energon, fluid and other damaged lines, and blocked pain receptors to anything but new pain from critical damage.

He'd stop Smokescreen from bleeding out, then he'd fix his arm, then on to the next mech ... no, the next Autobot ... who went down. He didn't even pay attention to the hard crash of metal on metal as some mech went down _hard_ under the weight of either Prime or a triple-changer.

"Boss!" a terrified yell made the medic glance over his shoulder to check on what he'd be fixing, only to freeze ... all except his hand, which continued in a sort of auto-pilot to save the mech in front of him. Of all the things he'd anticipated, watching Skyfire -- gentle, soft-spoken, pacifist Skyfire -- putting his full strength and mass to pounding Soundwave into the dirt was not on the list.

"Seekers! Retreat!" A deep rumble roared over the battlefield from a voice that almost never called it.

"What?" Starscream's expected screech demanded.

"That Aerial's generative!" Thundercracker shot back, already turning tail to escape. "Couldn't you have _warned_ us?"

"Ah Pits," Starscream snarled and followed his trinemate. "Retreat!" he added his authority to the command that was already being followed by nearly everything with wings.

"Told ya the mech likes ya," Smokescreen's weak voice still contained a chuckle despite the static of pain.

"Somebody get the Aerialbots out of the area!" Ratchet's explosive demand was half cut off by Prime.

"Already gone. Wheeljack, make yourself scarce," Prime roared, charging Megatron in an effort to end the battle quickly before things got even worse when the shuttle decided turn his attention on someone else, someone who was by no means guaranteed to be a Decepticon. "You might want to grab your TIC while there's still something left of him."

Instead of meeting Prime's charge, Megatron turned his fusion canon on the white shuttle-former and fired, singeing his wings and distracting him from Soundwave so the badly battered mech could be grabbed and hauled into the air as the rest of the army retreated.

"Have fun with your sociopathic pacifist, Prime," Megatron jeered before flying off just in time to avoid being Skyfire's next target. "Decepticons, return to the Nemesis!"

With his targets gone, the shuttleformer stood to his full height, wings spread wide and high to make him look just that much bigger and more imposing. He cast nearly white optics across the remaining mechs, locking optics with each in an open dare. Even Gears looked away, though it did take getting cuffed on the back of the helm by Ironhide to manage it.

With a satisfied rumble of his engines, Skyfire's wings lowered a couple notches, though he kept them splayed in display as his attention was fixed firmly on Ratchet, raking down the medic's back, taking in every scratch and burn as well as the more obvious damage.

"Repairs first," Ratchet growled at the larger mech without looking up as he closed Smokescreen up. "Then your needs."

Skyfire rumbled in disagreement but transformed without orders so the most injured could be transported to the Ark swiftly, along with their CMO.

* * *

"Come on, Sunbeam," Sideswipe urged in his most convincing whine. "We are talking about the most pacifistic Autobot on the crew. I just want to see how fragged off he'll actually get with that Seeker-glitching code in play."

"You call me that one more time today and you'll think I'm a glitching Seeker," Sunstreaker growled, but did not disagree with the plan. After all, they were fast, they had taken down far fiercer Seekers than the gentle shuttle who was only Seeker-kin, not the real deal. What did they really have to worry about?

"Keep telling yourself that," Sideswipe grinned in delight and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him towards the medbay and their targets. "This'll be fun."

"I thought I already fixed you two," the exhausted medic (with a giant, winged shadow) yelled at them as they entered. 

"We were just worried about you, Ratch. Brought you some energon. Sunny brought his polish. Thought you might need one of those _special_ breaks." Sideswipe replied with his cheekiest grin.

"If you two aren't out of here in three nanokliks, I _won't_ fix you," the medic growled, his armor shifting in irritation, but also in concern. "I know you're glitched, but now you're just being stupid."

"What are you talking about, Hatchet? Since when have _you_ said no to a polish and quick overload?" Sideswipe continued, sparing a quick glance at the flaring wings and arched neck that Skyfire was silently beginning to display from halfway across the large room.

Sunstreaker hesitated a moment, before wrapping his arms around the CMO from behind. "You keep on working when you are this glitching tired, you are an accident waiting to happen, doc," the yellow-gold berserker purred into his audio, not entirely sure what to make of just how stiff the mech suddenly became.

Ratchet's EM field flared hard into Sunstreaker; a pure warning of pain to come, but also heavy with fear for him.

"Now is not the time," Ratchet insisted as firmly as he could with Sunstreaker all but attached to him, rolling an EM field heavy with desire across him. "You know Skyfire won't share."

"Since when have you been the exclusive type?" Sunstreaker growled in challenge, his own field flaring as he looked straight into the now bright white, red-tinged optics of the looming intergalactic shuttle.

Before Ratchet could warn him again, Skyfire had crossed the medbay in two strides, sweeping up both grounders by their necks and squeezing them in his massive hands, even as Prowl, Jazz, Prime and Ironhide burst into medbay, having been silently commed by Ratchet the moment the twins' intentions became clear.

Ratched placed his hands on his hips, venting loudly as he glared up at the now dangling warriors. "Since _he_ took an interest in me when he's generative, even if it is just to switch off the coding once I'm done saving the rest of your glitched afts." The medic was fairly confident that Skyfire could be talked down by Prime at least. If not, Prowl and Jazz would save them, or at least what was left of them. "Remember this, sparklings. Never get between a generative mech and his chosen mate, no matter the circumstances."

Skyfire brought the pair up to his optic level, his engines roaring his rage. "You want what I gave Soundwave? Want me to _prove_ I have the right to claim him?"

He sounded nothing like his usual calm, gentle, scientific self. No, right now, gentle, pacifist Skyfire sounded more like Sunstreaker about to send a minibot to medbay for a month.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, apologize to Skyfire," Prime's baritone ordered sharply, not even attempting to order the shuttle to disengage. 

"Do it," Ratchet hissed even as their armor began to buckle. "Frag you both, do it, or so help me I'll send you to Hook for repairs when this is over, if there is anything left."

"S-sorry, Skyfire," Sideswipe spoke first, his voice modulating wildly from the pressure against it.

"We didn't mean," Sunstreaker's voice squeaked off when the hand around his throat tightened.

" **HE. IS. _MINE_** ," Skyfire roared at the pair.

"Seriously, we didn't mean any harm," Sideswipe gasped and tried again. "Ratchet's yours. Got it. No touching the medic."

Sunstreaker could only grasp the arm in front of him and try to nod, his optics white with a mixture of pain, fear he'd never admit to, and combat protocols more inherent to him than interfacing ones.

Skyfire shook them both, literally causing several armor plates to clatter to the floor, and then pinned both frontliners against the wall.

"If I detect even a sensor blip from either of you anywhere near him before this is over, there will not be a single piece of you left. Do you understand, you pathetic grounder glitches?" The shuttle's growl and furious field was accented by continued shakes.

"Got it. We'll leave the Ark. Seriously. We are gone," Sunstreaker promised with a quick glare at his brother promising retribution for what had to have been his worst idea since their creation. 

"They'll be in the brig, under my watch," Prowl promised coolly, though his doorwings were jacked up far higher than normal and his optics too white for anyone's good.

Skyfire looked towards the SIC, apparently deciding whether to trust him, before nodding and turning to toss the two rattled frontliners at Prowl's feet. "If not, I'll _deal_ with them."

Prowl simply nodded and grabbed each twin by an arm to haul them to their feet and lead the unresisting mechs off. His doorwings kept a careful sensor watch on Skyfire, pleased when the shuttle's systems began to settle a bit.

Once in the hallway, he looked at the pair and gave an exasperated vent. "What did I tell you about generative Seekers?"

"Skyfire's not a Seeker," Sideswipe protested, giving his twin a look for support and getting only a glare nearly as deadly as the one they'd just been subject to inside medbay.

"Are ya completely glitched!?" Jazz exclaimed, joining them in the corridor, looking angrier than he'd _ever_ looked outside of playing a role on a mission.

"It was just for a little fun," Sideswipe cringed away from the saboteur's rage. It had been so long since either of them had faced that ... not since they'd gotten their mech upgrades, really. The same time the pair had stopped being creators to them and became officers.

"Fun?" Prowl's hiss had lost all its fury. Taken with his EM field, it was slowly sinking in that their carrier was _terrified_ for them.

"We are glitches," Sunstreaker finally said in a soft voice. "Quit trying to defend it, Sides. We're lucky to be functioning."

"We've taken on Seekers before," Sideswipe started to protest. 

"In battle, when it is necessary, and _never_ a generative one!" Jazz hissed, grabbing his red creation by a loose piece of chest armor. "You _saw_ what he did ta Soundwave, and ya thought ya'd just prance on in ta medbay and test it out for yourselves. Frag it! It's hard enough watching ya almost kill yourselves every time we engage the 'Cons!"

"I'm sorry, Creator," Sideswipe looked down at the visor, nearly white with rage and fear. He only hoped the title he hadn't used since he'd become a mech would sooth that look. It was just as hard to take now as it had been then.

~It should be, they still _created_ us,~ Sunstreaker snapped over the twin-bond. ~Even if we haven't been a real family in ages.~

Jazz vented and pulled Sideswipe's helm down to his own. "Don't ya ever, _ever_ do that again," his voice gave a static-filled hiss. "You need ta entertain yourselves, make your carrier glitch, comm Bluestreak and get him to overload on monitor duty, paint Prime pink while he recharges. Ah don't care what, just don't do _that_."

The twins nodded and Sideswipe pressed a little into the familial touch he hadn't had in so long.

"We need to get them to the brig before Skyfire picks them up on sensors out here," Prowl said softly, placing a hand on his bonded's shoulder.

"Right," Sunstreaker murmured and started to walk again, all four falling silent as they struggled with what had just happened and the demons it brought up.

* * *

For the next three days, most of the Ark walked on eggshells whenever Skyfire was near, which was mostly in medbay, as he stalked and hovered over Ratchet whenever the medic was near another mech. Bets were being made as to when Ratchet would work out that Skyfire actually intended to kindle with him. That the fixation was because the shuttle _liked_ him and not simply to allow the CMO the processor access to manually shut the generative code down when the more critical patients were taken care of. More bets were being made as to whether Ratchet would admit he had feelings for the shuttle, or if it would go back to the kind of status quo that Prowl and Jazz had maintained for much of the war.

That statement, of course, made mechs in the know hide their smirks. The black and white pair hadn't slowed down since Prowl had first laid himself out on Jazz's berth and mutely offered himself before either were in the army. A few of them knew the infamous twins that were always stationed with at least one of them were their creations, but it was still a short list who had a clue.

As often as Ratchet snapped at the shuttle, the medic made no effort to eject him. He simply put the scientist to work, at least as much as the generative-influenced mech was capable of while simultaneously keeping one, if not both, optics and his primary sensor suite on said medic.

"All right you," Ratchet finally faced his stalker. He was exhausted, coated in more processed energon and lubricants than visible paint, and wanted nothing more than a cube of ultra high grade and his berth for at least an orn, if not a decacycle. "Let's get that programming settled."

The words brought about a visible, visceral change in the shuttle. The medic watched as wings slid down and relaxed, and optics that had remained combat-bright for days settled close to their default light blue before deepening in color. Skyfire's aggressive stance and scowl, present since the battle, eased to his naturally warm and gentle look.

Large hands came down to stroke Ratchet's shoulders; fingers far too dexterous and sensitive for their size moved down the medic's battered body as Skyfire knelt in front of him.

"Energon, shower, recharge, then we'll deal with my code," the shuttle said softly but firmly, a tone that Ratchet belatedly realized wasn't going to take any backtalk.

He vented deeply. Skyfire made sense. If the mech was willing to cope with his condition for a few more joor, it would go all the better.

"All right," Ratchet nodded wearily. "You get the energon while I start cleaning up."

He knew he should be piecing together that something was _off_ , but his processors refused to do more than note that the discrepancy existed as he watched Skyfire calmly walk out of the medbay. Ratchet gave a sharp shake of his head and walked to the washrack between the medbay and his quarters.

Maybe when he was clean, fueled and recharged it would make more sense.

He barely felt the cleanser begin to fall, pelting his plating and causing the gore of the last two orns to dribble down, then slough off in ribbons to be washed into the drain, swept away to the waste storage tanks be broken down and recycled. When was the last time 'recycled' had been an innocent word to him and not indicative of death and dying? When had he last felt _good_ about being called on? When had it meant life and not death ... dead that he salvaged from with his own hands to save another life that would only come back slagged the next orn to become more parts?

"You're thinking too much," a deep, soft voice washed over Ratchet like a physical caress. Hands followed, turning him around to face a wide expanse of white plating.

Solvent and cleanser washed down Ratchet's back. A full cube of energon was pressed into his numb hands and he drank on reflex. Gentle hands moved along his armor, assisting in cleaning him off, soothing stiff cables, burnt armor, yet it was the strong, encompassing EM field that drew a deep, relieved sound from the medic.

"I thought your generative code was acting up," Ratchet managed to murmur as the shower was turned off and blowers turned on. He held still, unwilling to stop the rare bit of pampering he was receiving.

"It is," Skyfire rumbled deeply, powerful interstellar engines humming in agreement as he rubbed Ratchet dry. "The sire needs to be healthy and strong or the sparklings will be small if they kindle at all."

Ratchet hummed in understanding, his processors too foggy from exhaustion and pleasure to fully grasp what the shuttle was _saying_. He made no protest as he was lead into his quarters and to his berth.

* * *

Systems cycled up, slow, reluctant and battered. When his tactile sensors linked up with his processors, Ratchet stiffened.

~Just me,~ a recharge-heavy voice murmured directly into his processors, causing the medic to boot much faster so he could access his last recorded memories, work out just _when_ the other mech had plugged into him, and who the pit the other mech was that felt they could recharge with their systems interconnected.

~Skyfire,~ the medic rumbled silently a moment later. ~ _Why_ are you logged into me?~

~Why wouldn't I?~ the shuttle responded, honestly confused and showing it across the hardline connection. His arms were around Ratchet, holding the medic sprawled across his broad chest, their sparks nearly in line. ~You're mine.~

Ratchet jerked in the loose grasp, only to have Skyfire tighten his embrace slightly. The medic's words were cut off as he realized he wasn't in his quarters, where he was sure he'd gone into recharge.

~Of course not. It's too small for me there,~ Skyfire nearly purred against his processors, a large hand stroking the medic's backstrut. ~Energon?~ He asked even as he reached over to the berthside stand to retrieve a cube. He helped Ratchet up, though it was only to sit, straddling the larger mech's pelvic girdle, before having the cube pushed into his hands. The tickle of arousal in Skyfire's thoughts was unmistakable now as it briefly flared.

~Skyfire, you're only thinking that because your generative code is active ... though I can't fathom why you want _me_. You're not lacking fliers to choose from....~

~No,~ the big mech interrupted him more firmly that Ratchet thought possible. ~I don't _want_ them, any of them. The code just prompted me to act on feelings already there. It never generates them. It doesn't work like that.~

Ratchet stared at him over the half empty cube. ~You're telling me you've been interested in me for a while?~

~Yes,~ Skyfire's mind-voice was both hesitant and confident, a match for the large hands now caressing Ratchet's frame. ~Dogfight would be the best choice if I wanted to have the strongest, fastest, most war-worthy sparklings. Silverbolt would be a fine sire too, or the full gestalt, as would Prime. If I didn't care who, I'd have a truly fine turnout if I threw it open. I know of at least a dozen Decepticon Seekers, all of ours and most of the faster and larger fliers on both sides would vie for the honor. Some things surpass faction, even now. I want _you_.~

~This isn't a time for sparklings, Skyfire,~ he insisted, regret lacing his thoughts as he finished his cube.

~Better raised in war than not raised at all,~ the shuttle insisted. ~The protocols wouldn't kick in unless conditions are favorable.~

~But ... wait, it's not a cycle?~ Ratchet focused on the medical end of things.

Skyfire laughed; an easy, light, highly amused sound. ~Of course not. We're not animals, Ratchet. Conditions have to be favorable, and the population low enough, or I wouldn't want to create like this. Favorable doesn't just mean energon reserves, but everything my processors have access to.~

~But....~

~Ratchet,~ he cut the medic off before he even started. ~I'm not asking you to bond or be exclusive. I'm not even asking you to be with me again or admit the sparklings are yours if you'd rather not. Silverbolt, Perceptor, even Wheeljack would be willing to claim responsibility if I asked them to. Just ... pretend I'm whoever you'd rather be with so I can have them.~

~Skyfire,~ he murmured, his processors in turmoil at what he was being assaulted with.

~Please.~

~Skyfire! Give me a klik, you glitch,~ Ratchet snarled, his engine growling in a deep agreement with his projected thoughts.

With a mute nod, Skyfire fell silent, though his interface protocols were fully on line, demanding he act with more force than the shuttle ever had conceived possible. It was a terrible torment, to have the one he wanted straddling his hips, hooked into his systems and have to remain still. All his gentle nature, scientific training and upbringing of free choice were having a hard time countering the silent demands to take what he was strong enough to claim as his.

~Ratchet,~ his voice was small and shaky as trembling hands moved to the medic's hips, large thumbs rubbing along the seams to his interface panel, noting how warm it was. ~Say yes or _run_. Protocols aren't much on consent.~

Ratchet looked down at the pleading expression, echoed so strongly across the hardline connection, and felt all his objections buckle.

~I don't know if I'll ever be exclusive, but I'm never going to create a sparkling and walk away,~ he murmured and leaned forward to kiss Skyfire. Code exploded through the hardline as the shuttle stopped holding back, rippling across Ratchet's processors in a firestorm of raw lust and desperate _need_. 

~Primus!~ the medic exclaimed.

~Yes!~ Skyfire allowed himself to become lost in the pleasure after fighting his base code for so long.

Ratchet was used to being firmly in control, whether in the berth or in his medbay. This was one instance when he might as well get used a change, because once that he had given his consent, it was clear that choice was fully out of his hands. The Seeker-base code was a fierce, raw power, honing in on him with predatory lust.

He could only lay back, or in this case, lean forward, and enjoy as Skyfire's much larger glossa thrust into his mouth as though the shuttle wanted to do much more than simply taste him. He could feel Skyfire struggle to pull his thoughts together, pull himself out of the intense, singular focus his code was demanding. As well as the medic knew the specs on those processors, to _feel_ them at full focus was both breathtaking and intimidating.

~Ratch....~ Skyfire's mind-voice faltered, his thoughts clouding with lust as both hands found Ratchet's hips and held him as the large mech rocked against him. ~Ever ... don't want to hurt you.~

Something resembling a whimper escaped Skyfire's vocalizer as his interface panel slid open.

Ratchet _the medic_ had seen Skyfire's interface array before, as he had all of the mechs under his care. That did not prepare Ratchet _the object of Seeker-lust_ to be ready in the least for what sprung to life between them.

Skyfire's spike was enormous, just as anybot would expect. The CMO knew that the shuttle's Seeker-coding would demand that he, as a grounder, submit to the flyer to be worthy of donating his energy to the sparklings. That meant that before anything else happened, Ratchet's valve would have to accommodate what suddenly seemed like an impossibly large invasion.

Oh ... he knew that valves were technically designed to accommodate nearly any size spike, that they could stretch and adjust in ways that made his processors hurt just thinking of it (and would probably make Carly faint just to imagine). But there were reasons that similar frame-types and sizes tended to become mates. Just because his valve _could_ stretch to accommodate the shuttle's thick, massive drill of a spike, didn't mean he could keep his legs from trying to lock closed in protest.

~Please ... don't make it forced,~ Skyfire openly begged, his fingers already digging into Ratchet's hips, seeking the manual release even as the medic's code was assaulted by the demand to open. Skyfire shifted, sitting up and twisting to press Ratchet's back to the berth, looming over the smaller grounder with his wings open wide, flared in challenge and demand.

Ratchet vented and called on every bit of code and training that calmed him in medbay emergencies. He debated switching the sensors off in his valve, but the lack of feeling would only increase the chance of real damage if his walls didn't recognize the need to stretch to their limit. 

No ... he needed to feel this. Theoretically, he knew it was possible to enjoy the suddenly aggressive and dangerous being that thought _he_ was the right sire for his young. 

He spread his legs and vented again, his panel retracting as Skyfire found the manual release.

"Just ... please go slow ... if you can, my friend," he said in a shaky voice that suddenly sounded so _small_. "I'm willing, no matter what."

A wave of relief hit Ratchet from his soon-to-be-lover. Their mouths connected again and one hand disappeared from the medic's hip to slide over both components. A single finger, as large as many a mech's spike, circled the valve entrance slowly.

~Don't want to hurt you,~ Skyfire panted across the hardline connection. ~Never want to hurt you.~

~Oh Primus, Sky,~ Ratchet groaned, his friend's lust blasting aside his resistance, though not his trepidation. How was it possible to be this aroused and terrified all at once?

~Easily,~ Skyfire shook, showing his own matching state.

~I trust you,~ the medic moaned into the connection as Skyfire's large glossa swept over his own, caressing and exploring ever bit of his mouth, even delving into his intake in a prelude of the penetration to come. A moment later that single finger slid into Ratchet's valve, stretching him as much as most lovers would with their spike.

Slowly, far too slowly, Skyfire slid his finger in and out, curling and flexing it to set off as many nodes as he could and to make the passage as slick as possible.

~What ... else helps?~ the shuttle asked, knowing he wouldn't last long enough to stretch his lover properly.

~Be in charge,~ Ratchet said after what processed as a long hesitation. ~It is what your code needs. If you have to force my systems to relax, do it.~ In a rare show of submission, the medic lowered his firewalls, allowing the shuttle unprecedented access to his systems. As raw and powerful as the code driving Skyfire was, it also _knew_ exactly what to do to get what it wanted. And what it wanted was a quivering, desperately aroused partner who would overload again and again and again when their sparks finally merged. If Ratchet fully submitted, Skyfire's own coding would make it unimaginably good for him. If he didn't, the same coding would force the submission and simply take what was needed.

Skyfire replied with small nod and a sense of incredible relief as the demands slid away from things the shuttle found distasteful. Above them Ratchet saw the wide white wings relax as well. It was one of his last coherent thoughts as foreign code began manipulating him. The single finger inside him became too, stretching him painfully, though it was only mildly so. There was a moment of pause, a bit of time to adjust, and Skyfire began a slow, tightly controlled slide of those two fingers out, then in, and out again, curling and flexing in opposing directions.

~So sweet,~ Skyfire moaned against his processors, enamored with the pleasure he was generating.

Ratchet threw back his head, his hands clawing at and finally gripping the mesh of Skyfire's berth hard enough to rip through the woven metal. His hips began moving on their own accord, pushing the scissoring fingers deeper into his quivering body. He was close, so slagging close to overload from the spike-sized fingers lighting up every sensor with deliberate, slow care.

But his charge was denied any escape as the generative-code firmly clamped down on his release. _All_ of the energy was to go toward the new sparks.

~Sky,~ he begged, ~please!~ 

Vents spewing out hot air, Skyfire shifted slightly as he withdrew his fingers and positioned his spike against the glistening, slick valve entrance. He pressed one finger, coated in Ratchet's fluids, against the medic's parted lips. They both trembled as the spike's tip pressed forward in a maddening series a small thrusts, coating just a bit of the tip at a time before delving deeper.

Ratchet sucked desperately on Skyfire's finger, biting down on it with each burst of pleasure-pain that rocketed through his systems as his entrance slowly widened enough to barely accommodate the flared tip of the shuttle's spike. 

Venting in gasps, he spread his legs even wider, adjusting the angle to give Skyfire better access. Vulnerable ... he had never felt so vulnerable. So easily damaged, and yet feeling nothing but raging lust to be filled, taken, possessed by the wild creature looming over him, barely in control.

It was a desperate struggle for both of them not to sheath Skyfire's spike in a single, hard, thrust. As intense as the burning sensation of the small, ever-deepening pushes were, when Skyfire finally stilled, his interface array pressed against Ratchet's, there was relief for them both in knowing they'd gotten that far without damaging the smaller mech.

~Ready?~ Skyfire murmured, his processors shaking as he stroked Ratchet's chest plates along the seam.

Ratchet shook his head, giving himself a moment to prepare, his optics offline as he focused all of his processing on the singular sensation of Skyfire, stretching him more than he'd ever been before. His legs were spread obscenely wide to accommodate the burn that was steadily becoming pleasurable enough to make him writhe. He wanted ... oh ... he wanted to be taken harder and faster than would ever have been safe for his valve. Simply having the shuttle's spike sheathed in him was enough to have warnings flashing on his HUD that he dismissed with a snarl. His optics brightened again, and he looked straight into the normally gentle blue ones above him. ~Yes ... yes Sky ... I'm yours ... take,~ was all he managed to say as his chestplates unlocked and his spark exposed itself at Skyfire's coded command.

Without even a mental whisper, Skyfire's chest plates opened as well, his spark chamber, as proportionally large as the rest of him, shifted forward and spiraled open, eager to expose the brilliant blue spark inside.

As lust-enflamed as he was, Ratchet could already see physical changes preparing the giant to carry. Extra power cables lead into the chamber, which had expanded. The walls were thinner now, but it gave space for the extra sparks it would soon house.

Two large, powerful hands gripped Ratchet's hips and Skyfire pulled his spike out, matching the pace of their nearing sparks. He'd be nearly free, ready to plunge in once more as their sparks touched.

Ratchet arched his chest up to meet the shuttle as Skyfire bent over to line up their far different frames. The focused intention the generative code demanded of them left no more room for worry about what might happen to Ratchet's frame and spark. At this moment, he and the shuttle were both tools for a programmed drive stronger than either of them. Ratchet could only hope no one would interrupt, because the mech would likely end up dead. 

~Skyfire!~ he cried as tendrils of his spark reached out of the protective walls of his chest, further than they ever had in a merge.

~Yessss,~ came the hissed, moaning reply as Skyfire drove his spike in deep, the friction of barely fitting enough to overload them both if it had been allowed. ~Oh Primus you're perfect. So perfect,~ he shuddered, pressing his chest down harder, driving the merge to complete as he pulled his hips back and slammed in again.

"Arghhh," Rachet screamed aloud as his valve overload built and built, coalescing into a single point of white hot pleasure-pain deep inside his protoform, then, rushing to his spark in a one perfect, glorious moment. The medic's much smaller spark swelled nearly to the size of the one it was merging with, a hot-white flash resetting both of their optics as it directed all of the built-up generative energy directly into Skyfire's giant blue orb. 

With yet another thrust, Skyfire started the process all over again.

* * *

Ratchet's systems grudgingly booted, yet the sated sensation of his body and spark allowed him to relax through the process. He even took the time to review the events of the previous night that lead him to be sprawled on top of Skyfire, feeling so very well used.

A slow, satisfied smile crossed his face as he considered the mech recharging soundly under him.

"Thank you for choosing me," he murmured, giving Skyfire a soft kiss before relaxing to recharge more.

He knew he'd need it.

* * *

The next time Ratchet roused, it was to the sensation of a very large hand stroking his back and the intense arousal of the EM field entwined with his own. He shifted and flinched at the pain in both the entrance and depths of his valve, but when his optics onlined, he smiled at the massive shuttle. 

"Five overloads in one merge wasn't enough for you, hmm?" Ratchet asked as he slowly, slightly painfully shifting himself upward to kiss the scientist's much larger lips.

"Mmm, it created a strong new spark, but I'd like more than one," the shuttle hummed in pleasure and kissed back gently. "The code's content with the one, but I'm strong enough to carry more, if you're willing."

"You seriously think our kind can handle _more_ mechs around with my particular resonance of spark energy?" Ratchet teased.

Skyfire chuckled, his primary engine rumbling with pleasure and amusement, his field dancing with joyful arousal, rather than code-driven need. "Your temperament mixed with mine will make a well-balanced spark," he claimed another kiss, sliding his large glossa along Ratchet's lips. "If one is gifted as a medic, it would be a great boon to the future," he murmured, stroking both hands along Ratchet's back, exploring the simple lines and seams. "If they are warriors, your will would serve them well. If they have a penchant for the sciences, your determination will take them very far."

Ratchet gave the shuttle a smile only the lucky few ever saw. "Well, when you put it _that_ way, how can I resist. And you know what they say about the best way to loosen up a sore valve."

The CMO's trained hands became more assertive as he reached down and to caress the junction between Skyfire's wing and backstruts.

"Mmm, only this time we can take our time and _enjoy_ it," Skyfire purred, running his hands down Ratchet's back again. "So ... what do you usually enjoy?"

"Being in control," Ratchet chuckled, his fingers expertly tweaking several nodes on Skyfire's wings. "And being forced to give up that control to get what I want," he added. "I'm not much of a valve mech ... or at least I wasn't. I think you have me converted."

"Enough to have a mod installed to take me better?" the shuttle shivered at the demanding touch. "Or a spike, to _take_ me better?" he asked, heating up sharply at the thought. "I am a valve mech."

Ratchet's response was a loud rev of his engine. "Slag, yes!" he answered before kissing the shuttle hard enough to dent the other's lip plates. They parted under him, welcoming the dominant aggression with the desire of long familiarity.

Fingers fumbled at Ratchet's dataports, asking admittance this time, almost begging for it silently. They opened without hesitation, the medic's own cables extending to complete the circuit. 

The blast of arousal that hit them both was different from their previous connection -- far more concerned with consent and shared pleasure, and finding out what the other enjoyed. Ratchet chuckled as an image ghosted across Skyfire's processors, and he urged the giant shuttle to turn over and allow him access to his wings from his back. 

A low-pitched, deep rumble, half whimper and half moan in anticipation, vibrated between them as the shuttle complied, folding his wings down and back to put as much of them in Ratchet's reach as possible.

~What do you like?~ Skyfire shivered across the connection, his desire to submit, to be pleasured and taken care of, echoing from so deep in his processors that it gave Ratchet pause at just what it had taken for the gentle mech to do what he had the previous night.

Ratchet grinned and ran his glossa over a spot he knew to be particularly sensitive near the apex of Skyfire's left wing.

~Let me show you,~ he responded in a cheeky tone, unsubspacing a tube of gel he kept around just for moments like these.

The mercury-laced edible energon gel was sweet to the taste, and would also tingle Skyfire's nodes. He began to slowly apply it to each sensor, starting at the junction of wing and backstruts.

A low, deep moan rumbled up from Skyfire's chassis as his wings quivered. ~Never felt that before.~

~This stuff was all the rage when I was at the academy. It is every medic's secret weapon. It actually has medical use in treating certain types of chemical protoform burns, but _this_ use has always been far more popular. Wait 'til you feel it in your valve,~ he added as he continued his methodical painting of the large, graceful surface of Skyfire's wings.

~Oh, Primus,~ Skyfire shivered, scientific knowledge and processors designed to extrapolate based on existing data went into overdrive. ~Can I lick it out of your valve, when you're done with me?~ he nearly begged, his wings quivering uncontrollably, his processors on fire at the confident dominance of his lover whose focus was fully on the shuttle's pleasure

~Yes, and I'd like you to lick it off of my spike as well,~ Ratchet purred. The medic slowly began to 'paint' the blobs of gel with his delicate fingers; the shuttle's wings beginning to resemble, of all things, a human sparkling's finger paint masterpiece. Except that Ratchet was painting glyphs, each one more suggestive than the last.

The meanings were not lost on the shuttle, who's plating was wired to respond to pressure and air currents but largely ignore the heat of reentry.

~Never going to want to let you go,~ Skyfire whimpered between their processors, knowing he had promised not to hold onto the medic and determined to keep that promise, but with growing desperation to take the words back. ~I miss this so much.~

~Hmmm ... one orn at a time,~ Ratchet responded in a gentle, loving tone that made the shuttle's wings quiver. ~I have _no_ objections to continuing to explore,~ he added as he leaned over to taste the glyphs he had painted, while slipping some of the gel on his fingers in between the plates to the tubing and wiring underneath. 

Skyfire let out an inarticulate cry as his processors blanked at the pleasure and promise that he'd have at least occasional orns as the medic's lover. His entire chassis arched up, pressing hard into the contact as he gripped the berth under him.

~Oh _Primus_ , please Ratchet!~ he gasped across their processors, no longer able to track exactly what he was begging for, only that he desperately _wanted_ something from his lover.

~Patience,~ Ratchet scolded with a chuckle, before seriously going to work on the most sensitive spots on the shuttle's wings with a combination of magnetized pulses from his fingers and his glossa. ~I know _just_ when to stop so we can overload spark to spark,~ he assured the far larger mech, thoroughly enjoying having the gentle giant at his mercy.

A soft whimper mixed with moans of raw pleasure as Skyfire submitted fully, without hesitation, to his lover. Across the hardline, Ratchet could feel how much it _worked_ for the shuttle to have another in control, that for Skyfire, this was a form of pure indulgence he'd rarely received. As much as it was about control for Ratchet, for Skyfire the exact same actions were about being cared for, indulged and loved.

~You are so lovely ... perfect,~ Ratchet murmured, painting the glyphs that went with the words before licking them off with his glossa. ~Spread your pedes, Sky. I want to taste your valve.~

There was a full-chassis shudder under him before Skyfire complied. It was the sound of the shuttle's interface cover opening _without_ the sound of a spike pressurizing that really captivated Ratchet.

~Last night felt incredible, but feeling you, any of you, inside me....~ a wash of unabashed desire replaced words.

Somehow, even after the wild topping of the previous orn, it did not surprise Ratchet in the slightest that the giant aerial was a valve-mech. The majority of large mechs were, though being penetrated did not have the same connotations among his kind as it did among most organics. He wondered if it had more to do with the fear their spikes tended to inspire in those smaller than them. Whatever it was, there was no way he was going to neglect a request like that.

~You just want someone with medic coding paying attention to your valve,~ he teased, kneeling between the shuttle's thigh supports before smearing more of the energon gel on his fingers and feeling his way into the large valve. His arm could no more adequately fill it than his unmodified spike would, but at least his fingers would know exactly where to touch as he pushed in up to his elbow joint, leaning down to suck off the gel that was spilling from the the outer ring of the shuttle's valve.

Intergalactic engines roared to life above him as Skyfire arched and keened in ecstasy. The flexible valve lining, with strong muscle cables and calipers behind it, tightened around his arm with enough strength to make Ratchet take a mental note to be _very_ careful of the quality of his upgrade when he had a larger spike installed. He could already feel the charge licking from the internal sensory nodes to his arm.

He grinned and bit down lightly on the silicon and metal folds of Skyfire's valve entrance, and then slowly began to pull his arm out before thrusting it in again, his fingers dancing along the sensors deep inside giving them gentle shocks.

The broad white body strained not to buck, not to injure his lover who was causing such pleasure. Skyfire was sure he'd melt from the inside out just at the feel of being so _full_. It had been so very much too long.

~So pretty like this, so desperate not to lose control, so responsive. I could tweak one sensor _just so_ and you'd overload on command,~ Ratchet playfully stroked the deep sensor in question just enough to tease it. He wanted to spike the shuttle ... to feel the strength of the scientist's muscle cables squeezing him as though they would never let him go, milking every last drop of mechfluid from him. 

He _needed_ that upgraded spike mod, and he needed it _soon_.

~YES!~ Skyfire howled across the hardline and roared wordlessly at the thoughts. His wings vibrated, only deeply ingrained code keeping them from thrashing and potentially knocking he medic over. Memories of the last time he'd felt this full rushed to the surface before drifting back down. Memories of a world long gone, a mech so long dead it didn't bear contemplating. A pleasure flight, Skyfire's first interface, with a much older Seeker even larger than he was.

Yet even before the memory faded, Skyfire was reaching out to make sure Ratchet knew, _knew_ , Skyfire wasn't fantasizing of anyone else.

Ratchet actually chuckled aloud at that.

"I'm _not_ the jealous type, Sky," he said in his most assuring tone before leaning down again to roll the shuttle's external valve sensors between his glossa and dentes. It was intoxicating to have the mech squirming, engines roaring, at his every touch.

~Do you want to overload merged?~ he asked, his own desire to feel the aerial completely out of control getting close to the point of no return.

~Yes. Yes, please,~ the sharp desire for another new spark, several new sparks, reached up almost as strongly as before. ~Want you.~

Ratchet grinned, and pulled his arm out so Skyfire could turn over slowly, being cautious of his wings, his lover, and their hardline cables. Ratchet put himself back into position, kneeling at the shuttle's valve again entrance, and plunged his arm in again even as he signaled his chestplates to retract and his chamber to spiral open.

"When you can't take it any longer, grab me and take my spark." The medic's tone was gruff, the hardline connection between the two vibrating with his affection and joyful desire to see another tiny spark orbiting the massive one.

A low, thrumming whimper escaped Skyfire as his valve clenched the arm driving into him, his EM field alive with energy and desire. Skyfire reached over his head to grab the berth's head support, his entire frame rolling with every movement Ratchet made.

In reply to the thought came an image that nearly stalled Ratchet's processors. Five tiny orbs orbiting Skyfire's large blue spark, their colors a small rainbow as they orbited and rotated in a complicated unison.

Ratchet, to his credit, didn't stop pumping in and out of the clenching valve that was threatening to dent his arm. Nor did he stop licking and sucking at the sweet mixture of lubricants and energon gel that was spilling out. But he did manage to ask, ~do you plan on all of them having the same sire? Having several would get more mechs involved in caring for them, and the more energy and coding contributed, the better.~

There was no judgment in the words, simply medical concern and curiosity. It barely overlaid the massive charge building simply from the act of pleasuring the large frame and receiving the feedback along their hardline cables.

~I ... can,~ Skyfire murmured, his processors having difficulty focusing around the amount of energy raging through his systems with nowhere to go. ~If you want.~

Ratchet reassured him with a datastream of affectionate understanding and the promise that they could speak of it later. Obviously, there was something much more important at the moment, so he maneuvered himself so he could continue penetrating deep into Skyfire's valve with one arm while his other hand reached up to the other edge of the shuttle's spark corona, caressing both physically and with his field.

~Oh Primus Ratchet!~ Skyfire roared and arched, pressing hard into the touch to his spark. It was the only warning Ratchet received before large hands grabbed him and pulled him forward, only just giving enough time for the arm to be pulled from his valve before coronas touched.

Ratchet threw back his head, moaning and laughing at once in an expression of pure joy as their sparks blissfully went about the work of weaving energy together into yet a second tiny spark, funneling the vast release of energy into something completely new.

* * *

Ratchet cycled up from recharge lazily, automatically checking his messages. A small smile crossed his faceplates when the only ones were from various mechs -- First Aid, Wheeljack, Hoist, Grapple, Prime, even Prowl -- all assuring him that medbay was all under control or that he had all the time Skyfire wanted to kindle the sparklings. Not how much time _he_ wanted, but how much time the Seeker-kin wanted. Dogfight had taught them that much.

Two little sparks, still incredibly vulnerable, were circling the large spark resting in the chassis underneath his. Sparks he had helped create, but which could still have energy and coding donated by other. Skyfire wanted three more. Not a trine, but a new gestalt. At least that was the shuttle's hope. There were no guarantees even if they all made it that they would be linked in any way, much less that most intricate of ways.

With a soft smile few in public ever witnessed, the Autobot CMO took in each detail Skyfire's recharging faceplates, even gentler in rest than awake. He could get _very_ used to the shuttle. Skyfire had already been one of the few he truly considered a friend before the generative coding kicked in. 

He was thrilled ... and deeply honored ... that Skyfire had chosen him. There were so many others who would have been more logical selections, not to mention the fact that his duties left him with very little free time for a romantic relationship, much less acting as a mentor to sparklings.

But by Primus, he was determined not to let the Seeker-kin down. He knew Skyfire wanted him to sire all of the tiny the sparks. It was a desire he secretly shared. But the real question wasn't about desire. It was about what was in the best interests of the new life they were risking kidling in the midst of war - not just adult mechs like the Aerialbots or Protectobots, or something hard to categorize such as the Dinobots (who would always be sparking-like but had never been sparlklings). These would truly be, as the humans used the term, children.

But who would be best to suggest as the other creators? Either of the gestalts on Earth would be good. There was little known of how gestalt coding might be passed on, but there was a greater chance of it with an actual gestalt involved. 

Any of the Seekers would be good, and they'd probably understand better than most. Really, at least one _should_ be involved, given the code Skyfire was likely to pass on. Brainstorm and Highbrow were the most like Skyfire, both pacifists, both brilliant, the spark they'd generate would likely be the finest processor of their generation, if not more. Eagle Eye and Sky High were both solid Autobots, though not that exceptional otherwise. Dogfight had a few wires loose and Tread Bolt was an utter glitch, even if Jazz was too fond of him. Cloudraker was definitely not a good one -- glitched as bad as Sunstreaker, only far more fatally.

Either of the triple-changes would do well, though they're both more militant than preferable. Then again, militant was good in the optics of protective creator these orns, and from that point of view, even Dogfight was a good protector.

Then there was the fact that he _knew_ Skyfire would consider others out of respect for him, thought that might not truly be what the Aerial wanted. 

He climbed up the giant mech's chassis and kissed him softly.

A low, pleased rumble vibrated up from under him as Skyfire began to cycle to awareness, his body -- or rather his mouth -- responding before he was at all coherent.

Ratchet brushed against shuttle through the hardlines that Skyfire seemed reluctant to disconnect, tethering his lover to himself physically and mentally. 

~I have enriched energon for you. First Aid brought it in a bit ago. Better have it now before you get shaky.~

~All right,~ affection came back before Skyfire slid his hands down Ratchet's sides and lifted his helm for another kiss. ~You've had some energon?~

~I saved my cube until I woke you.~ Ratchet leaned into the kiss, shivering at the way the much larger glossa gently invaded his mouth, as though reluctant to claim too much, yet unable to resist. 

Regretfully, he broke off. While the shuttle would need regular overloads as the tiny sparks fed off of his own, the more critical need at this moment was for energon, enriched with the minerals that would form be used to form the protoform shells. Skyfire's frame could withstand a good amount of leaching, but in wartime Ratchet wanted to avoid as much of that as possible.

They shifted until Skyfire was sitting up on the berth, his back against the wall, and Ratchet straddling his lap. They drank in silence, each relaxed in cycling up slowly, the warm energon that woke them up, and the pleasure of feeling the other close. Skyfire never stopped stroking Ratchet's back, flanks, legs ... never stopped touching with his free hand. When the energon was finished Ratchet found himself pulled in close, right against the broad chestplates as a kiss was placed on the top of his helm.

"Do you still wish to discuss others?" Skyfire asked evenly, not even the hardline giving away his feelings on it.

"I do, before we both get the surges and can't stop ourselves," Ratchet said with droll humor, a charge already racing through his systems simply from the energon, caresses, and intimate position. "I don't want you to consider others simply because I think it is a wise idea. Your coded instincts and desires are the most important considerations for healthy sparkling development, at least as far as I understand the Seeker code," Ratchet started.

"But..." Skyfire encouraged him.

"But I'm nervous. I meant what I said about being involved. I would not have done this with you without having full intention of being mentor as well as sire. I just am not sure whether I have it in me to be one of only two mentors. Even with Seekers, there would be a trine if coding was properly followed. Plus, there are others who could give the sparklings traits I can't, traits that could help them develop into a gestalt if that is truly your wish."

Skyfire hummed, a vibration that did nothing to help Ratchet think, though the shuttle's optics were clouded with thought.

"Do you really believe that we would be left to our own devices to raise them?" Skyfire looked down at his lover, a mech who understood this group, and all Autobots, far better than he did.

"Of course not," Ratchet nearly snapped, but then vented and continued in a calmer tone, "Never. But you also know just how strong the creator bond is. No matter how much support we receive, there will be far more individual investment from other creators, particular a Seeker or Aerial or two. You could always throw open a mating flight for the remaining sparks and to add to the original two."

There was a long silence, and even though he was being shielded from the actual reactions, Ratchet could feel how much was being calculated on the far side. Eventually Skyfire hummed again, a deeper, throaty sound, and held him close.

"I'll invite others," he decided. "But a mating flight that would satisfy my code would have to be cross-faction. You know that once I'm generative, I would not be satisfied with anyone of less rank that Starscream. I just am not prepared to pass on his spark-traits, for all that there are many good things to pass on from him."

Ratchet vented in relief and a small amount of sadness. As unnatural as monogamy and possessiveness was to their kind, a small part of him wanted Skyfire all to himself.

"Sky ... whoever the others sires are, I will look at _all_ of them as mine. You know that, right? I want to contribute to all of them, whether as sire or simply a donator." he said gently, not wanting his suggestion to be processed as a rejection. "I just want all of them to be as strong as possible, to have as much support as possible, and having more Seeker coding than I can give, or even you can give, is a good thing." The CMO knew he was trying to convince himself as much as his new lover.

"Shu, I know," Skyfire murmured into a gentle kiss. "No matter who sires them, no matter what my relationship with those sires and attempted sires are, _you_ are the one I chose and want."

* * *

Like a good leader, Silverbolt stood between his team and the shuttle with such obvious predatory intent as Skyfire stepped into their hanger.

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Skyfire promised, looking directly at the tallest mech before him. "I have the sparklings my coding demanded. This is for me," his gaze slid across the team, seeing them with entirely different optics than before. Now he judged them for spark strength, for endurance, for traits they could pass on. But while they were all acceptable, he wanted _them_ for a single reason.

"I'm trying to kindle a new gestalt," Skyfire matched optics with each, watching as they grasped what he meant at various times. To no surprise, Fireflight was the last to work it out, but probably the least ruffled. He focused on Silverbolt once more. "I'd like all of you to contribute that code and spark-trait."

Silverbolt relaxed a fraction, but _only_ just. He had stuck around the battle just long enough to see what has gone down with Soundwave. Skyfire was twice his heights and far more than twice his mass, and he was a _large_ Aerial. 

"I don't have anything in my datafiles about gestalts coming from anywhere other than Vector Sigma," he said carefully.

"The Protectobots were created from mature mechs," Skyfire told him. "One gestalt, short lived but successful, was kindled. SkyGuard was Seeker. It is rare, and the process ill-understood, but it does happen with a single carrier."

"So, how does this work?" Air Raid stepped forward, powerful jet thrusters roaring to life in excitement. "Do you face all of us? One at a time?"

"Or, hey? Maybe he could merge with Bolty's spark while we're Superion?" Fireflight offered with a dreamy look.

Skyfire's helm swung around to the spacey jet and gave him a calculated look before focusing on Silverbolt once more.

"My theory is that we would hardline and sparkmerge all at once, however," he cast a look at Fireflight, "interfacing with Superion would have an even greater chance of success."

Silverbolt relaxed even more and cracked a grin. "We haven't interfaced _as_ Superion before. The idea ... is rather appealing."

"And Jack did give us _all_ the proper equipment," Slingshot added, looking at Skyfire with predatory optics 

"Superion has a spike and valve?" Fireflight asked, his voice shooting up several registers.

Skyfire's engines, far more powerful than any of the Aerialbot's, roared with a spike in his internal temperature. He wasn't sure if he could actually _take_ a spike as big as Superion's was likely to be, but he was _very_ willing to try.

"Sized for him, or for Silverbolt?" Skyfire asked with a deeply lustful rumble.

"Wheeljack designed us, Skyfire. What do _you_ think?" Air Raid said, striding toward the shuttle before looking over at his team as though to say 'what are you waiting for?'

"That I'm going to be very sated and very sore," Skyfire's wings trembled in anticipation. "Coming?" he slid his gaze from the Aerial in front of him to the others before taking a step backwards. "No room for him in here."

"I've alerted Prime. He will be setting guards outside since none of us will be in any position to be monitoring our surroundings," Silverbolt explained, following the shuttle out the main hanger door into the cool desert night.

Skyfire gave a startled look, then nodded. "A good precaution. Has Superion explored himself?"

Snickers and outright laughter met the statement. "We tried," Silerbolt explained, "but every time we did, we fell out of combiner-mode and ... entertained ourselves in other ways. The presence of a partner should help." 

"Maybe if Fireflight had actually realized Superion has a spike and valve, he wouldn't have been so anxious to gain access to his own," Skydive joked, wrapping his arm around his highly distractible brother.

"The generative code will go a long way to help," Skyfire's wings shivered in anticipation. "It is an experience like nothing else. It will hold you right at the edge until your physical systems can't take the buildup anymore. Then it's overload after overload, one right after another, with hardly any effort."

"And they sent us away from you when this all first started, why?" Slingshot asked, a bit sullenly. 

"Because he was fixated on Ratchet and all other aerials were threats, dumb aft," Skydive explained, hitting the other jet on the helm.

"Basically," Skyfire nodded. "Mostly, I believe, it was to protect you from accidentally setting me off. You don't know enough about Seekers or generative states to know what not to do."

"But now we get to set you off," Fireflight bounced up and down on his pedes, "In a good way, that is." 

It didn't take long for mechs to start pouring out of the various entrances to the ark, far more than would simply have been assigned as guards. Word had clearly traveled fast. 

"Aerialbots, form Superion," Slingshot ordered with a shaky voice as soon he saw that Prime had exiting the hanger and Omega Supreme had come striding over a hill from his launch pad. The Protectobots were quickly forming Defensor, as well, giving them two giant and one large mech to protect them from others, and, more importantly, protect others (including the landscape and structures) from them.

Skyfire shot a look at Ratchet, subconsciously needing a final nod of approval that this was okay, before lifting off to come head-level with the mech that was as large to him as he was to his lover. His valve was already slick with lubrication, his EM field alive with nervousness and desire as the generative code activated once more.

* * *

"Ratchet," Skyfire nudged his bonded insistently, rousing the medic from well-earned recharge. "Ratchet!" he shook harder. "It's time."

"Mmph," Ratchet cleared the static from his vocal processors. "That is what you said two orns ago." His tone was rough and irritable, but the brush of tender affection against the shuttle's spark was anything but.

A wrist port was offered, Skyfire silently letting the medic check his systems to determine if it was a false signal or not. His trust in the other's opinion over his own instinctive, Seeker-coded knowledge was an odd reminder that even though Skyfire remembered nearly as much of pre-war Cybertron as Ratchet did, the shuttle was still _young_ by most standards. He had spent many more millions of years in stasis under the ice than Ratchet had slept under Mt. Saint Hillary. 

His bonded's outer demeanor switched instantly to the perfect, cool professionalism he exhibited in an emergency, but Skyfire could feel the swell of excitement in the medic's spark.

"We'll be greeting our sparklings before the orn is out," Ratchet announced briskly before detaching his cable. He climbed up the tall, and lately much boxier frame, to kiss his bonded warmly in celebration. His joy, excitement, and passion, was returned eagerly as Skyfire wrapped his arms around his bonded's chassis.

"When will we know if they're a gestalt?" the shuttle asked eagerly, his chassis shivering in anticipation that had nothing to do with the birthing processes.

"Mmm, they might know already, but certainly by the time they're mechlings," Ratchet tipped his forehelm to touch his chevron against Skyfire's forehelm.

After a moment, the CMO offered his much larger bonded his hand so they could walk together to medbay. While the process was fairly simply compared to that of organics, he still wanted to be in the same space as his equipment and monitors. He recalled with no fondness the deprivation of the medbay he had been using when his bonded had first kindled. His current medbay at New Praxus, their Martian base, was the best he'd had since before the war, a testimony to changing times and a very grateful humanity who had been saved not only from the Decepticons, but more recently from Quintesson invaders. 

"Are you getting any signals as to who would like to separate first?" the medic asked far more calmly than any would have guessed he'd be.

"The big one, Starhop," Skyfire said, and then groaned, rubbing his lower chassis where small mechanical transformation sounds could be heard.

As they entered, a well-loved organic voice greeted them, sounding far younger than her 104 years.

"Is it time?" the silver haired woman asked, bouncing up and down in excitement from where she was sitting on a human bed on top of a normal medberth. Carly's latest cybernetic implant, this time, one of her eyes, was being examined by First Aid for any signs of rejection.

"Yes," Skyfire smiled warmly at her. "You've studied all the documentation, you know the warnings if you need to get away?"

"I have, sweetie, though I'm sure First Aid will get me out of here before I even notice, right hon?"

"Of course, Carly," the (still) young medic said with a shy smile. "Do you want the others here?" he asked politely, making Carly snort as he picked her up.

"Considering how many ended up contributing during the generative period, that would be quite a crowd," she said with a giggle, happily willing to be carried. "I think you would have had Spike and I contribute if we could've."

"Yes," the shuttle smiled down at her. "Every contributor, every merge and interface, adds energy and code to the potential during the generative phase. The sparklings are very strong and gifted because the entire community contributed to their creation."

"I still can't believe you let the _twins_ after what they pulled," she teased.

"Once I'd sparked with Ratchet, I was able to see the humor in their attempt to rile me, and they both have many strengths to offer new sparks," Skyfire explained calmly.

"All of the creators will all meet the sparklings soon enough," Ratchet said firmly as he guided Skyfire into the delivery room that had been designed and built just for this occasion, though it would be used again in a five metacycles by Prowl, who was once again carrying twins. "Wheeljack and Hoist are on their way. That will be more than enough no matter what happens. Everyone else will have to make do with waiting and those cameras Red Alert snuck in."

The room they entered was not so different from the rest of medbay, and would certainly be used in other situations. What made it distinctive was the wide variety of transformable berths to suit sparklings of many frame-types and sizes, as well as specialized monitoring equipment and tools suspended from the ceiling to be used to quickly separate an internally formed protoform or an unframed spark from a carrier in an emergency. On several of the berths there were unsparked protoforms Wheeljack had built, both in case of emergency should an internally formed protoform fail at separation, or, in the case of Prowl and Jazz's twins, the actual protoforms into which they would transfer the sparks the Praxian carried. Skyfire, like his Seeker-kin, formed the protoforms internally, the metaloids leached from his own systems and supplemented through highly enriched energon.

In the center of the room, recessed into the floor, was an enriched, glowing energon pool much like those used for mechs in stasis to keep their nanites alive, however far bigger. In this case, it was could be used to allow new sparks to absorb energon directly from a source other than their carrier if they were having difficulty making the separation. It was more of an emotional comfort for frightened new sparks than it was a medical necessity. Not to mention the way the tingling, glowing pool could both relax and energize a carrier through what was sometimes a long and difficult process of creating new transformation sequences for the sparklings to emerge. 

"Are you going to use the pool, hon?" Carly asked, excited. "I loved my waterbirths with Danny, Orion, and Ariel. Too bad Rodney came too fast to be in the water. Remember that, First Aid?" 

"I delivered all of your progeny, Carly, as well as most of their descendants," the smaller medic said with a gentle smile. "I enjoy reviewing those files regularly."

"Yes, I will," Skyfire rustled his wings before carefully stepping into the glowing pool, lowering himself into the energy with a pleasured sound even as he gasped at a tug of pain deep inside one of the construction chambers that now took up much of his central frame.

With a smile for Ratchet, he lowered himself to his back and all but floated there. His focus turned inward, encouraging the sparklings to disconnect from his systems and claw at the armor covering them so it would slide out of their way.

Though 'birth' for their kind was very different from organics, there was one way in which it was similar; as long as everything was going well, there was little for a medic to do other than help the carrier relax and trust his or her own coding. Interventions, given when they weren't needed, were as likely to cause problems with a sparkling - whether internally or externally framed - as they were for an organic newborn. 

Skyfire's five aerialings were first of a new generation who, thank Primus, did not have to look forward to an existence dominated by war. There was no reason for those present not to be completely at ease, welcoming their new kin into a galaxy at peace. The CMO made a quick decision, and entered the pool with his bonded. Though he would become medic again in an instant if there was any of trouble, at this moment he could be partner, lover, and bondmate to the love that had taken him completely by surprise.

It earned him a smile as Skyfire snaked an arm around his waist and gently tugged him down for a kiss.

~Pleasure, light pleasure, would help me relax, and welcome their systems into the world in the best way,~ the shuttle purred across their bond. It was still a new thing to them both, but cherished as much as the lives they had created and would care for.

Ratchet gave his sparkmate a gentle smile that made Carly and First Aid beam - it was so different from his normal acerbic expression that Carly was tempted to joke, but watching them melt into a deeper kiss kept the teasing off her tongue. She watched Ratchet run his multijointed, skilled medic fingers over the broad expanse of Skyfire's wings - wings that had been grounded for far too long while he carried and built frames for five future giants, at least one of whom was destined to be larger than his carrier if their scans were correct.

The thrumming hum Skyfire responded with was endearing, but did nothing to cover the sound of the armor over the central chamber splitting open and sliding out of the way in small sections to reveal an even deeper chamber for the sparkling, it's protoform already fully formed, mobile and nearly twice Carly's height, to crawl out of.

The little one clicked and trilled, then squawked unhappily when it's efforts to reach the sky were hindered by wires and cabling still attaching it to the chamber that had built and nourished it over the last half vorn.

All three mechs responded back to new flier almost instinctively, using the clicks and trills of sparkling languages even though, of the three, only Ratchet had used it before with a new spark. 

Skyfire reached down and soothingly relaxed his largest sparkling with a hand on his wing and gentle EM pulses, encouraging the remainder of the lines and wires to disintegrate and be reabsorbed. 

"Welcome Starhop. You will be able to fly soon enough," the shuttle spoke in the Seeker dialect with gentle amusement as he helped detach the lines. "For now, float in the energon."

The sleek white form, with red, blue and gold highlights and a deep green chevron looked at him and clicked a greeting. "Carrier," he cooed in Seeker cant, causing Skyfire to almost burst with pride.

"Yes, my lovely Starhop," Skyfire trilled, tapping his claws on his upper chest to draw the sparkling up his body.

The sparkling complied, teasing the last couple wires connecting them as he half-crawled, half floated towards the giant hand.

"Creator," Starhop looked up at Ratchet with extra-large golden optics set in the delicate features of a sparkling that resembled Skyfire most of all.

"That's right, Starhop," Ratchet's frame was trembling with a level of emotion he had not expected, not matter how excited and hopeful he had been. He reached out and caressed the future interstellar shuttle with warm affection.

The golden optics then looked at First Aid who was kneeling next to the sunken pool. "You are also my creator ... but ... not the same," the sparkling sounded puzzled.

"We all helped create you, little one," First Aid explained, all the while translating the conversation for Carly over a silent comm. "Skyfire and Ratchet are sparkbonded, so you have been more influenced by their energy and coding than any others. But every mech with us at the time you were kindled gave part of themselves to you during the generative cycle. You can call me mentor, or just First Aid."

Starhop nodded, watching the smaller medic thoughtfully before extending a long limb towards him. "First Aid, mentor, provider." he offered, his expression openly hopeful as Skyfire absolutely beamed at the pair.

"Yes, sweetspark," First Aid beamed, taking the four-clawed hand. "I and my brothers will _always_ be there for you, as long as Primus allows."

"What is wrong with its eyes?" the sparkling suddenly asked, looking at Carly, who was weeping as hard as she had at the birth of every one of her own descendants.

"She is crying. It happens when humans experience very strong emotions," Skyfire explained, turning much of his attention inward again as the second chamber began the processes of opening, something it wasn't strictly designed to do. "Her pheromones indicates it is happiness."

Starhop attention suddenly turned to the transformation of his carrier's chassis. "Trimo! Tri-mi!" he trilled excitedly before reverting to sparkling clicks, greeting his brother.

Trimo chirped back, then trilled lightly, almost a laugh at his brother's excitement.

It took the deep red sparkling longer to extract himself, but it made Ratchet nearly burst with pride to watch the little one take such meticulous care in carefully disconnecting every wire, tube and cable linking him to his carrier before he even tried to move.

"He takes after you, love," Skyfire murmured into Ratchet's side.

Trimo was about half the size of his brother, and would likely only be a bit taller than Ratchet as a mech. His white chevron had a graceful sweep reminiscent of the wings swept up behind his back. He moved up his carrier's chassis with deliberate care, chirping what almost sounded like an order to his sibling, who bounced toward him and wrapped the smaller sparkling up in excited arms. The larger aerialing trilled, cooed, and nuzzled the brother he had spent so much time talking with through their sparks, but had never _seen_ or _touched_. 

Ratchet's smile widened as Trimo very obviously began examining his brother for any sign of injury or malfunction.

"He _so_ takes after you," Skyfire laughed in utter delight at the pair before he reached down to stroke Trimo's small, more elegant wings. "He'll be quite the medic. Fast too, by his wings."

Before they could even start to greet the future medic, more transformation sounds echoed through the room. The pool was going to be quite full _very_ fast as two chambers opened almost simultaneously.

Nightshade clawed upwards first, deadly claws making brutally short work of the various lines restricting her exit.

"No need to be that fast," Skyfire held back a gasp of pain at the tearing lack of concern the small, lithe black sparkling gave his internals.

"Sorry, Carrier," her small voice piped. "I could feel my brothers were meeting and wanted to _finally_ see them with my own optics." 

Before another word was said, she had launched herself at the two intertwined members of her family.

It didn't matter that her carrier knew it was barely a half-truth. She'd felt panic for the first time and the raw instinctive response to confinement was to rip it apart. Jazz and Mirage had both contributed more than anyone anticipated towards the little Spec Ops agent.

::I'm certain they are a Gestalt,:: First Aid commed them as he discretely took in the complex scans.

Ratchet felt the intense joy, nearly enough to knock the medic over as they watched the three interact, quickly joined by the large white, green and blue form of Ripcord. As the joy settled, he shot First Aid a look that put the junior medic in charge of the sparklings and focused on his bonded while Stardust, the final member of the new gestalt began the tangled process of freeing herself.

~Love?~ Ratchet murmured, brushing against Skyfire's processors as his scans checked everything about the larger mech.

~Just ... suddenly so worn out,~ Skyfire murmured. ~Just want to rest with them, but energy's not low.~

~It's normal ... at least from what I've experienced. Prowl recharged for a couple of orns after the first twins. Rest now,~ he assisted Skyfire from the pool onto a very large berth. ~When you wake I guarantee you'll have a berth full of our family.~

"Carrier?" five voices suddenly spoke up as one from where they had been completely absorbed in greeting one another with ecstatic chirps and touches. Their large optics were suddenly concerned. 

"Merely tired," Skyfire assured them with a wave of affection and calmness over the dimming bond they shared. "I require recharge."

The five shared a glance, looked at their carrier, then their creator and back to each other before Trimo nodded with a sharp chirp that sounded almost like a warning to the rest not to wake their exhausted carrier, but also seemed to satisfy any anxieties they had. 


	2. Gentle Giant Outake (the crack orgy scene)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a scene in the Gentle Giant expanded story, but we agreed that its cracky nature didn't really belong. So it's here as a bit of orgy crack. Face it, it's really _fun_ to break Spike's organic brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Pairing** : Skyfire/Superion/Defensor, Autobot Orgy  
>  **Codes** : Crack, Slash, Het, Mechpreg, PnP, Sticky, Spark-sex, Size-kink, First Times, Orgy, Incest, Twincest, AU for ignoring the 1984 movie completely, Writers being lazy about language (just like the show)

Wheeljack pushed his way toward his friend and sometimes lover through the crowd of gathered mechs, noting with some amusement that Bumblebee had just returned from picking up Spike from college. The young human male and his mate, Carly, were emerging from the VW looking shell-shocked. Primus, the scout was going to have some massive explaining to do, no pun intended.

It was no surprise that every available mech not on critical duty had managed to gather outside the hanger even faster than they would have with the battle alarm shrieking through their comms. As Sparkplug had once said, the Autobots seemed to have a near-psychic ability when it came to gossip. In this case, his name was Blaster.

"Looks like the kids are all grown up," Ratchet said casually, his arms folded as he watched his lover and the gestalt kiss, the contact experimental but hot with desire.

"I'm such a proud papa," Wheeljack chuckled, wrapping his arms around his friend from behind in a mixture of support, comfort, and desire as his fans kicked in. Skyfire was clinging to the combiner who was well over twice his height, kissing him desperately as glossa larger than some mech's frames slid across the shuttle's lips.

"How are _you_ doing, Ratch?" he asked softly enough that only the CMO's audios would pick up the question.

"Still a little sore, but so very worth it," he rumbled, his engine purring and fans buzzing softly as he leaned into the contact slightly. "When he's not being overridden by code, I could get very used to having him."

"He made a good choice," Wheeljack said earnestly, without a hint of jealousy. "One that did not surprise me in the least. He's been watching you ever since we rescued him from the ice. Hey, just think, in human terms, I'm going to be an uncle _and_ a grandfather to some of those little scraplets."

However Ratchet might have responded next was lost in Superion's roar accompanied by enough shaking of ground that the unaware might have feared Saint Hilary was going to explode again.

"If that's just plugging in, the overload is going to be heard in Seattle," Wheeljack chuckled and pressed a little closer to Ratchet's back.

"Generative code is an amazing experience," Ratchet murmured, his optics locked on the vision of his lover, the carrier of his sparklings, lost in the rapture of a generative interface that had only just begun.

Superion's interface cover slid back, his spike sliding free to bump against Skyfire's panel. The size of it was more than enough to cause several mechs to shift uncomfortably, but Skyfire let out a rumbling moan of anticipation that his wings reinforced.

"Holy shit!" a human voice squeaked from nearby, eliciting a number of chuckles from mechs. Spike Witwicky, hoisted onto Bumblebee's shoulder, looked white as a sheet, while his girlfriend, Carly, was leaning forward, her eyes dilated and pulse increasingly rapidly from her protected spot on Bluestreak.

"Size is proportional," Wheeljack called over to them, his helm fins flashing merrily. "He'd look funny with one for a smaller mech."

"But ... but ... where does he KEEP it, when he isn't being ... you know ... Superion?" Spike managed to ask, desperately looking anywhere but the disturbingly erotic scene they happened to have driven into that evening. The full moon was doing nothing to hide the activities as Skyfire used his powerful thrusters to hover at Superion's spike-level and begin to lick its truly massive length with sensuous silver glossa that suddenly looked small in comparison.

Spike's question led to another burst of chuckles, along with suggestions being shouted out from all quarters.

"Silverbolt has an extra big one - didn't ya know that? Why he is so afraid of heights - it really weighs him down." Jazz called over.

"Don't mess with the kid. Didn't you ever wonder what else Prime's trailer gets used for? Well, now you know," offered Hound.

"It's a sixth Aerialbot we don't like to talk about," Bumblebee explained in a meant to be overheard whisper. "His name is Skyspike."

That created a roar of laughter from all quarters and catcalls of 'good one'.

"Same place as Prime's trailer goes, I bet," Carly whispered, her eyes still locked on the two giant lovers. "But the Aerialbots, they're so young," she shot a glance at Bumblebee. "How ... do they even understand this?"

"Oh, they were sparked as adult mechs, Carly, not sparklings," Bluestreak began to explain. "Remember, they needed to be able to fight right away, and a sparkling wouldn't have the proper coding for combat. And all of them had been drones before Jack rebuilt them, so even if they weren't fully self aware before, they had some intelligence and all their memories cores - not like a sparkling that is framed with just basic code. And we just don't have the same stigmas about this stuff that you do ... I mean you humans in general, not you in particular because I know you don't have any stigmas about mating! You do it all the time! For us, it isn't about age. It is about what your processor can handle. Jack coded them in hopes that they'd be a gestalt, and Vector Sigma gave them sparks that were already bonded, so they've been interfacing with each other ever since they came online. In fact, one time I walked in on Wheeljack giving them a lesson..."

"What Bluestreak is trying to say," Wheeljack interrupted, his finials continuing to flash gleefully as Skyfire took the very tip of Superion's spike into his mouth, "is that I would never create mechs who could fight but not 'face, nor would I allow them to remain naive about such an important part of their functioning, especially as a gestalt. They came online with all of the proper coding to be _fully functional_ ," he added.

"Now back up a sec," Spike protested while Carly opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. "A lesson? Aren't you ... like ... their dad?" the last word was said at such a high register it was almost like he had gone through reverse puberty.

"We don't have those stigmas either," Bumblebee snickered at his friend. "There's no genetic relation, no danger of creating a sparkling or risk even if a sparkling was somehow created. We never had any reason to object to that kind of interaction."

"Many newly upgraded mechlings go to their creators to learn about interfacing before they experiment with their own age group," Mirage spoke evenly. "Among some classes it was a hired position; one of great respect and great expectations."

"Mmm, I actually like that idea," Carly said in a dreamy tone. "Not the parent part - sorry Jack - it doesn't matter how much I try wrap my head around it and remind myself that incest doesn't really exist for you guys, my poor squishy brain just can't take it. But the idea of an older, experienced, handsome man, hired to show me the time of my life? That would have been amazing."

"Hey!" Spike squeaked again.

"Oh, relax Spike, I was _your_ older, experienced woman," she said crossly, "it would have just made me even _better_ at teaching you to be a man."

"Would you stop talking like that in front of the bots?" the young man hissed, turning beet red, leading to even more laughter.

"Hush - watch and learn, little Spike," Bumblebee teased his charge. There was a groan of appreciation through the crowd as Superion suddenly grabbed the giant who was less than half his size, pulled the shuttle's legs around his neck, and slid a truly enormous glossa into his valve to begin stretching it.

"I can see your influence, there, Jack! You can come give us lessons any time!" someone shouted from behind them.

"Somebody better be recording this!" Another voice called out.

"Of course," Jazz moaned back, his back pressed against Prowl's front as the SIC held him securely and molested a sensory horn with his mouth.

"Ooo, is Defensor about to..."

"Yes!" a breathless gasp responded as the second gestalt pulled Superion forward, against him, and pressed large fingers into the shoulder joints where Fireflight and Slingshot jointed to Silverbolt.

"Wait ... isn't he supposed to be guarding..." Carly started to ask, her thighs noticeably clenched together.

"Trust me, if _anyone_ does something to interrupt this, the pieces we'd leave would be too small to smelt," Hound's normally gentle voice sounded almost rabid. It was no surprise to anyone present, aside from the hapless humans, that is, that Mirage was suddenly flat on his back, being worked over in all the best ways by a creature of the wild ... and that the noble wasn't making a single objection.

It would have stolen some attention, but at that moment, Defensor began running his glossa along the wide, sweeping expanse Skyfire's wings

The shuttle convulsed as much as he was able in the grip of the two much larger mechs, his voice a keen that soon rose above audio range while his engine's roar deepening below it.

With no apparent communication, Defensor helped Superion lay down, the flier-gestalt's glossa never leaving Skyfire's valve. Defensor didn't even wait for them to completely settle before he knelt between the spread legs made up of Skydive and Air Raid and pressed his spike into the slick space.

Spike gave another squeak, hissing at Carly. "Dude ... it is just so wrong for a guy to have a vag like that."

"Oh, put a sock in it, Spike, they aren't guys and it isn't a vag!" Carly snapped, leaning forward so far that Bluestreak was forced to wrap her in an energon restraint to keep her from falling to the ground. "Is ... is Superion going to try to fit in ... Skyfire's ... you know?" she asked the gray mech breathlessly.

"Valve, and oh yes it'll be a stretch. It'll be about as tight as it was for Ratchet to take Skyfire, I expect, but nothing that can't be handled with the right prep," he shivered in excitement, his doorwings quivering with pent up need he wasn't quite ready to beg to have dealt with. "It'll feel incredible, I bet, to be stretched that tight."

"Does ... the bigger one always top?" she asked, a tinge of fear on her voice, even with pheromones strong enough to be sensed in Vancouver spilling from her.

"Oh no it goes both ways. Some mechs prefer their spike or valve but there's no reason for one or another to top or bottom, like you say, it's not inherent in us like it is in organics, you know? I've heard of those who even got their interface upgrade changed out because they bonded with someone of a very different size. I don't think it's happened in a long time, well no one's bonded in a long time either, but it's no more integrated into our frames than Sideswipe's jetpack ... well, maybe a little more. My doorwings would be harder to replace."

"Oh," was all Carly managed, hardly able to hear herself with the roars of gestalts and the clangingly erotic sounds of metal on metal. In the moonlit darkness she could see blue lightening stroking all three frames, as well as the frames of many around them, charges desperate to escape, arcing from one frame to another.

She glanced over at her boyfriend, who was hiding his eyes and muttering to an increasingly irritated-looking Bumblebee. Spike really didn't live up to the double entendre his nickname had become ... or maybe he did if you considered that they all called him 'little Spike'. The scene in front of her was _so_ not helping with her slight annoyance with that fact.

"If you want to put me down ... I'll distract Spike so you and Bee can ... have some fun," she offered when a particularly sharp jolt stung her thigh.

" _Thank you_ ," he nearly moaned and put her down next to a surprised Spike before tackling his lover with a hard kiss and eager hands, his doorwings pressed downwards hard to put as much of them as possible in Bumblebee's reach.

Carly and Spike looked at one another awkwardly, blushing, shuffling their feet. All around them, fewer and fewer mechs were left standing, and those that were still standing weren't exactly innocently watching. While they both had known that the Autobots engaged in what Ratchet had so kindly referred to as _tactile intimacy_ , and had even had the standard, hopelessly boring lecture on the details, neither had ever seen anything beyond the occasional touch and kiss among their alien friends.

And then they driven into an orgy bigger than the grand canyon.

"Do you want to go inside?" Spike whispered, pulling her a little closer.

"No!" she growled between clenched teeth, panting, pupils dilated wider than Spike had ever seen. In fact, they were far more dilated than they got when he and she...

He didn't want to think about that, so instead, he tried to figure out where to look.

Bumblebee swallowing Bluestreak's robocock and fingering his talkative friend's metal vag? No...

Mirage, who now had reversed things and had Hound on his back and was fucking the scout hard enough to make the ground shake. Ummmm. No. _So_ did not need to see that.

Omega Supreme giving himself a hand job ... NO! Just no!

Prowl, Jazz and Prime in a daisy chain ... Fuck NO!

The Dinobots ... _whimper_

The twins ... oh dear _God_ Sunstreaker had Sideswipe's shoulders and face pressed to the ground with his ass in the air. It would have looked like rape if not for the _noises_ Sideswipe was making. Tracks was either going to make it a threesome or get himself killed as he lined up with Sunstreaker from behind.

What _was_ Springer doing with Arcee _and_ Hot Rod? And why was _Kup_ walking up to join Prime's party, and when had Ultra Magnus started fucking _Prime_.

Ratchet and Wheeljack were going at it like dogs in heat ... ewww, that was worse than walking in on his dad, who at the moment ... oh shit ... he did NOT need to see his Dad gleefully videoing the entire shebang ... or hebang ... or whatever the hell this was.

So instead he looked back at the main attraction ... where Superion now was carefully spreading Skyfire wide enough to fit just the tip of his ... metal ... schlong-thing, their chestplates were parting ... and Defensor was trying to get even more in on the act, parting his as well, offering cables and ports and ... was there anything these robots _wouldn't_ do?

He tore his eyes from the tableaux and looked at Carly, only to find her sitting on her ass, one hand up her shirt and the other working into her jeans as she shook, her eyes locked on the two gestalts and shuttle that had somehow taken the entire robo-schlong into his robo-cooch, leaning forward at an angle to allow both gestalts to join his spark in a merge.

Something in the teen finally broke, and he began to laugh so hard that tears were running down his face. He pulled Carly to himself, nuzzling her neck, his hand joining hers in her pants as the entire base seemed to explode in keens and groans and roars so loud that his ears were likely to be ringing for the rest of his minuscule existence.

She was fast to shift her attention to getting his pants _off_ , along with hers, and pushed him to the ground. Her eyes were wide, nearly black, panting as heavily as she usually did after the fun.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Pairing** : Skyfire/Ratchet, Skyfire/surprise  
>  **Codes** : Violence, Slash, Mechpreg, PnP, Sticky, Spark-sex, Size-kink, First Times, Mech Birth, AU for ignoring the 1984 movie completely, Writers being lazy about language (just like the show)  
>  **Notes** : nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter  
> Written for a <http://www.tf-secret-santa.deviantart.com> for <http://www.wooden-flashlight.deviantart.com>


End file.
